Merry Christmas Christine
by Assasin Blue
Summary: Love must be set aside this Christmas, as two warriors fight to the end.


"So?" Christine asked as she looked at him. "So my offer still stands." Zwingly said as he looked around the charred remains of the building. Zwingly was covered in blood, as was Christine. Zwingly knew if they kept fighting it would be a very close match, thought he didn't want to strike her down. "Zwingly, what you are doing is what I stand against, and you know this, so now I must do everything in my power to stop you." Zwingly smiled. "I still." He tried to say but he was cut off. "I do too, and I always will, but we are warriors and now we must set aside emotions to do what is necessary. You can mourn for me when it's over." Zwingly slowly drew his sword as the snow fell around the two. "Why do you say I will mourn for you?" He asked as a tear rolled down his face. "I've known you for so long, you will defeat me Zwingly, but I would like to die with the dignity that I am standing up for what I believe in. I would like to die, if by anyone, by you." She said smiling. "I'm going to miss that smile." He replied as he came into a stance, the Sequence's blade shimmering bright in the moonlight. The beautiful Vieran drew her katana, Silkmoon, and aimed it, pointing it towards Zwingly. "So?" She asked again. "Now." He said as they ran against each other. Zwingly swung the blade, meeting Christine's. "I love you." She said as she spun around, slashing Zwingly's arm. Zwingly jumped back, and regained his balance. "I love you too." He whispered as he charged forward again. This time he carefully coordinated his attacks, adding grace to them rather than brute force, like Christine had taught him.

The two looked at each other as their swords locked. They wanted to throw aside their swords but they knew they couldn't. Zwingly forced back his tears and tried to push through the locked swords, but his body wouldn't let him. He swiftly jumped back, and once again regained himself. He knew he had to go on, even without her. He knew what had to be done had to be done. They rushed against each other yet again, making sure not to lock blades again. Zwingly blocked one of Christine's attacks, and spun around slashing her back. She drew a dagger and stuck it in Zwingly's arm, causing him to fall back. As she tried to slash downwards he jumped up and knocked her katana out of her hands. It wasn't over however, for she drew a Masamune from her sheath and continued to attack. The moonlight gave the snow a glowing shimmer, and caused the crimson blood to shine. They paced back and forth, trying to come within range of each other as little as possible. They knew one would not survive the night. Christine and Zwingly went to opposite corners of the snowy field, and slowly moved along the valley, simply enjoying the walk. It felt like the battle was over, but Zwingly knew they couldn't simply walk together forever. They came to a clearing, a perfect battle ground. The untouched snow reminded them both of how they met, and they knew it was then that it would end.

Zwingly raised his sword, as Christine raised hers. They looked at one another knowing it would be the last time. Zwingly nodded, as did Christine, and they charged against one another one last time. Steel clashed, each blow echoing over the land. The snowing had grown increasingly, yet they did not notice, they simply fought. Christine and Zwingly came into another lock, giving them another moment to look at one another. Zwingly's grip loosened on the blade, allowed Christine to push through. As she did however, he regained his last strength and spun around. All of his force was within this strike, this one lunge, meant to kill someone as quickly as possible. The blade seemed to soar forward, until it hit Christine. She stumbled for a moment, and fell to her knees. She smiled up at Zwingly, before collapsing onto the ground. Zwingly let his tears come, and he sobbed over her body. The snowing had stopped, and the moon began to fall behind the mountains. Zwingly spoke softly. "Merry Christmas Christine."


End file.
